


pictures worth a thousand words

by writing_way_too_much



Series: courage, my dear [3]
Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Music Store, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Photographs, Slice of Life, Weddings, well the music store and bookstore are mostly alluded to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-03 20:45:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14577303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing_way_too_much/pseuds/writing_way_too_much
Summary: they take a thousand pictures.





	pictures worth a thousand words

**Author's Note:**

> oh my god how did this get so long??? i was gonna just write smth about their wedding but it turned into a photograph thing using the last paragraph of "built from the ground up" and it's 2.7k words im sorry
> 
> alluded sexual content at the very end
> 
> there is a bit of a time skip. i'm thinking that a year has passed since the beginning of the first fic in this series when wonpil takes the picture of jae burrowed deep inside his coat.
> 
> also, it has occurred to me that the timing of everything might be a little confusing. the very first section takes place on the morning of their wedding. all of the photograph stuff takes place before the last scene of "built from the ground up" and then we have the wedding and honeymoon. hope that's not too confusing
> 
> (g)i-dle's debut song "latata" was on repeat the entire time i wrote this fic and you should definitely listen to it while you read this
> 
> disclaimer: this is completely fictitious, i own only the plot

on what is going to be the happiest day of his life, jae wakes up with a scratchy throat.

“babe,” he whimpers. wonpil rolls over immediately and nuzzles the side of his neck. “i’m sick.”

“you can’t be sick, i have to kiss you today,” wonpil says, pretending to be annoyed. it’s ruined by the giant smile that’s been on his face since jae proposed.

“we can be sick together, then,” jae suggests.

“what about our honeymoon?”

jae can feel himself blushing just thinking about it.

“oh, no, hyung, that’s not what i meant,” wonpil says, quickly backtracking. “i meant that it’s no fun to be sick while on vacation.”

“but even if i’m sick,” jae says gratefully, “i’ll be sick _ in hawaii _ .”

“everything’s better in hawaii, eh?” wonpil’s eyes are sparkling and his hair is sticking up in five different directions. jae pulls him on top of himself and kisses the living daylights out of him, scratchy throat be damned.

  
  
  
  
  


_ they take a thousand pictures-- _

“smile!”

jae blinks, the afterimage of the flash not going away for a very long eight seconds. “what was that for?”

wonpil beams at him, smile brighter than the sun shining behind him. “i like your face, and i wanna take pictures of it.”

unsure of whether to be flustered or thankful, jae settles on rolling his eyes fondly and ruffling wonpil’s hair, resting his chin on wonpil’s head. “thanks? i think?”

  
  
  
  
  
  


_ \--pictures of wonpil smiling-- _

“your smile is so pretty,” jae says without thinking, and then bites his lower lip and curses god and the universe and everything for his impulsive mouth.

wonpil’s head is resting in his lap as they’re binge-watching supernatural on netflix with korean subtitles. he keeps grabbing for jae’s hand at the scary parts and usually finding the ticklish part of his torso instead. “that’s sweet, hyung. thank you.”

“you’re welcome,” jae mumbles, stomach flipping like a fish out of water.

“i’ll smile more, just for you,” wonpil says. he turns so that jae can see his face and grins hugely at him, the kind that makes his eyes crinkle up and jae’s heart beat irregularly.

“i don’t doubt that,” jae huffs, pretending to be irritated.

from then on, whenever they go on dates, or, hell, whenever they’re just lazing around the house or visiting each other at work, wonpil smiles extra widely at jae, and jae snaps a picture.

  
  
  
  
  


_ \--of jae burrowed deep into his coat-- _

“jesus fuck, it’s cold out.” jae’s nose is kind of stuffy and he sniffles.

“i feel like swearing right after saying the lord’s name should be sacrilegious or something,” wonpil muses. jae hits his shoulder, not hard enough to hurt.

“okay, but it is really cold,” he argues. wonpil concedes his point. “why the hell did you drag me out of our nice warm apartment?”

wonpil’s ears go a tiny bit red at the causal usage of “our.” it’s cute. “because--look! there it is!”

an ice sculpture stands proudly in one of the many centers of seoul.

“okay, it is impressive,” jae admits. he buries himself deep within the collar of his coat and his scarf, staring up at the sculpture. it’s a huge lion, fierce and strong.

the telltale sound of a camera makes him glance over to wonpil next to him, thinking he’s photographing the sculpture. “you always forget to turn your ringer off--” the camera is pointed at him. “hey, my nose is runny, don’t take pictures of me--”

“but you looked cute, hyung!” wonpil laughs, dancing away, out of jae’s reach. they chase each other around the base of the statue, prompting a few disapproving glares from surrounding passerby. they couldn’t care less.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ \--of their linked hands-- _

wonpil has nice hands.

he’s played piano for most of his life, he tells jae, making himself comfortable on the bench of the most expensive piano in the whole damn store. he knows what he’s doing. “there’s no need to look so worried, hyung.”

jae wrings his hands. “i dunno, could you maybe have not picked the most expensive piano this side of seoul to play on?”

“where’s the fun in that?”

the sparkle in wonpil’s eyes wins jae over (it always does) and he relents, letting wonpil mess around on the piano. only under his strict supervision, which isn’t that strict, since he keeps getting distracted by how pretty wonpil’s hands look on the keys, graceful and musical.

so, of course, jae holds hands with wonpil as much as he can.

even doing something trivial, like walking into the kitchen in the mornings to throw some coffee beans in the machine, he’ll thread his fingers through wonpil’s.

and then, naturally, he starts to take pictures of their linked hands.

wonpil blushes the first time he sees them. “why are you taking pictures of us holding hands, hyung?”

“because i like holding your hand,” jae says, and he smiles at wonpil, and wonpil takes a picture of him.

  
  
  
  
  
  


_ \--of them kissing-- _

it isn’t a big deal anymore.

they kiss each other all the time, casually, an easy and familiar intimacy.

jae isn’t sure when wonpil takes the pictures, but he is sure that they’re his favorite of all the ones told so far.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ \--of the terrible bleached-blond hair jae ends up with once-- _

“hey, pil-ah, c’mere,” jae calls.

“what?” wonpil asks, coming into the bathroom.

“can you help me dye my hair?”

“i feel like that’s going to end badly.”

“won’t know till we try it.”

jae’s mother nearly has a heart attack when she sees the results. jae pouts. wonpil can’t stop laughing. “it was your idea, hyung.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


_ \--of the dog they adopt from a shelter-- _

jae has a day off while wonpil does not. he spends the time sitting on the couch for an impressive six hours straight, watching netflix and youtube on his laptop.

wonpil comes home shaking.

“baby, what’s wrong?” jae asks, on high alert, shutting down his laptop immediately and going over to engulf wonpil in his arms.

wonpil takes a shuddering breath. “there--a stray dog was--it--so sad--”

“complete sentences, babe, please.”

“there was a stray dog and it got taken away and it looked really sad and we have to get it back, hyung, we have to we have to we have to--”

“okay,” jae murmurs, rubbing circles on wonpil’s back. “okay. we’ll get this stray dog.”

the next afternoon, they come home with a newly adopted dog who won’t stop licking the side of wonpil’s face, eliciting never-ending giggles that jae holds close to his heart.

their landlord is hesitant, but after wonpil spends a solid fifteen minutes pleading and coming up with all the reasons why they should be allowed to keep the dog, the landlord relents.

the dog is highly excitable and loves to greet them by jumping up on them. jae takes her to a doggie daycare during the day so she doesn’t get lonely. she sleeps on the foot of their bed and is an excuse to take walks and hold each other’s hand and fits perfectly into their lives.

she’s also a super photogenic dog.

“i think your entire phone camera storage is just pictures of our dog,” jae teases. wonpil’s cheeks turn a tiny bit pink.

“she’s pretty, okay?”

jae agrees that the dog is in fact pretty, and those pictures are added to the printed out ones decorating their walls.

  
  
  
  
  
  


_ \--of the engagement ring on wonpil’s finger. _

jae swallows, pushing down the nervousness that’s been twisting his stomach and making his hands sweat and his legs shake. the ring box weighs heavily in his hoodie pocket.

the air is beginning to warm up, spring sunshine filling the sky and green shoots tentatively poking their way out of the ground. it’s the perfect time to propose.

the girl at the jeweler’s had helped jae pick out a ring. it’s simple, a tiny diamond in the center of a silver infinity sign, and jae had sneakily measured wonpil’s finger while he was asleep so he knows what size to get. the box is also small, black velvet, and jae’s twisting his fingers together just thinking about it.

“hey, you wanna go out to dinner?” he asks. “doesn’t have to be anywhere fancy.”

“sure,” wonpil says. he’s been curled up in the big armchair by the sliding glass doors that lead out to the balcony ever since he got home from work, reading the latest in a science fiction series that he and jae both really like. he stands up and stretches. jae doesn’t even try to disguise his staring anymore.

their dog whines when wonpil opens the front door. jae rushes over to her.

“hey, hey, girl,” he says quietly. “i’ve got something big planned for tonight and i’m sorry but i just can’t do it here. be a good girl, okay? there’s food in your bowl.”

even though he knows she can’t understand him, the way she tilts her head and pads off to her bowl in the kitchen makes him think she does.

since jae’s wearing a hoodie and wonpil’s wearing sweatpants, they don’t go anywhere fancy, just a casual restaurant they’ve been to dozens of times. the older lady who owns it knows them by name and is constantly forcing extra helping upon them, saying that they’re too skinny.

the food is good, as always, but jae can barely eat anything. he pushes his rice around his plate while wonpil digs in.

“you feeling okay, hyung?” he asks jae, who looks up, startled.

“um, yeah. just not super hungry, i guess.”

deep breath. push down the fear. he loves you. he won’t be mean to you.

the sun is setting as they walk back to their apartment. wonpil is leaning on jae, even though it kind of hinders the speed at which they can walk. they don’t talk--they don’t need to, not any longer. silence is comfortable. 

jae stops abruptly when they get back to their apartment building. “hang on, my shoe’s untied.”

wonpil shakes his head. “you know, if you just tied decent knots in the first place, this wouldn’t be a problem.”

somewhere, jae finds a smirk, and tosses it up at wonpil as he kneels down.

his shoe is actually untied, because his laces are always floppy and catching on things and tripping him half the time. he ties it quickly and then gets on one knee, fumbling for the ring box in his pocket.

too late, jae realizes that he probably should have some sort of speech prepared, but all he’s got is the fact that he loves wonpil with everything he’s got and doesn’t ever want to have anyone else. that’ll have to be enough.

“kim wonpil,” he starts.

wonpil stares down at him, hand covering his mouth, eyes shining.

“i’m--okay, i’m stupidly in love with you,” jae says. “i love you with everything i am, head over heels, to the moon and back. every cliche you could ever think of, that’s me about you. i don’t want anyone else beside me in my life. would you--will you marry me?”

“yes,” wonpil breathes. he throws himself at jae, knocking them both to the ground, cold concrete pressing into jae’s back. he doesn’t care. “yes, yes, a thousand times yes. always yes. always always always.”

jae opens the ring box and slides the ring onto wonpil’s ring finger. it fits perfectly. wonpil stares at it for a solid fourteen seconds, then kisses jae, and this is the happiest he’s ever been.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


same-sex marriage still hasn’t been legalized in south korea, though they’re working on it. sungjin’s arranged some kind of ceremony that is the best they can get. jae couldn’t care less about the specifics of it, only that wonpil’s the one standing across from him.

they’re in rented tuxedos and jae hasn’t brushed his hair. wonpil, in lieu of the dress shoes he doesn’t own, is wearing his beat-up converse. the only guests in attendance are their friends and their parents. dowoon is the unofficial wedding photographer. he’s already taken over a hundred photos and the ceremony hasn’t even started yet. sungjin and brian are holding hands and probably thinking about their upcoming wedding. (sungjin proposed a week after jae did.) both sets of parents are equally teary-eyed and fiercely proud.

their vows are simple.

“i love you, and i want to keep you always,” jae says, staring into wonpil’s eyes.

“i can’t imagine anyone else who i’d rather have standing across from me,” wonpil says, staring right back.

“park jaehyung, do you take this man, kim wonpil, to be your sort of lawfully wedded husband?” the dude officiating the ceremony asks. jae forgets what sungjin said his name is.

“i do,” jae says.

“kim wonpil, do you take this man, park jaehyung, to be your sort of lawfully wedded husband?” the officiant asks.

“i do,” wonpil says. it’s more confident than jae’s, fittingly enough.

“you may kiss the, uh, groom,” the officiant allows.

jae tries to dip wonpil in an old-fashioned kiss. it almost ends terribly but instead ends in laughter. dowoon is snapping pictures at the speed of light and brian is crying happy tears into sungjin’s shoulder. all of the parents burst into a round of spontaneous applause when jae’s lips finally find wonpil’s.

the rings are two simple gold bands. jae slides wonpil’s on, above his engagement ring. wonpil fumbles with jae’s and almost drops it. jae laughs and steadies his hand.

the reception is held at jae’s parents’ house because they have a relatively spacious backyard. wonpil and jae return their tuxedos to the rental place after posing for about a bajillion more pictures, then change into flannels and skinny jeans.

wonpil’s mother teaches jae’s mother how to make the dish that jae and wonpil attempted, all those months ago. they’re occupied in the kitchen. sungjin and brian are sitting entwined on the loveseat, chatting with them. dowoon is putting together a playlist for dancing.

jae’s father digs some fairy lights out of the garage and wonpil’s father starts setting up tables. jae and wonpil help string the fairy lights between trees and the roof of the house.

they eat at folding tables, sitting in lawn chairs. the paper plates threaten to blow away each time wind sweeps through. their soda cans are unsteady on the warped service of the tables. the food is delicious, though, so that makes up for it.

wonpil can’t stop smiling, and jae can’t stop fiddling with his wedding band or staring at his new husband. they sit on the same chair and hold hands and feed each other bites. dowoon pretends to be disgusted but has a telltale happy twinkle in his eyes.

jae’s mother cuts the cake and they manage to polish off the entire thing.

dowoon hooks his phone up to some bluetooth speakers and starts his playlist. the grass is uneven and with the sun setting, it’s a bit chilly, but they dance until the playlist has repeated itself three times and the neighbors start to complain about the noise.

everyone stays at the park house that night, not wanting to leave the warm atmosphere. mr. and mrs. kim take the guest room. sungjin and brian find an air mattress. dowoon flops down on the couch. jae and wonpil make a nest of blankets on the rug and fall asleep in each other’s arms.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


on their first night in hawaii, jae and wonpil are both too tired from the day of traveling to do much more than fall into the hotel bed. they spend the first day exploring waikiki. a tension hangs in the air the whole day, though, and it isn’t until they get back to their hotel room that it is resolved.

after, jae is lying next to wonpil, both staring up at the ceiling. jae’s phone buzzes on his nightstand, presumably a text from his mother, checking in.

“hey, i have an idea,” jae says, sitting up.

wonpil yawns. it’s adorable. “hmm?”

“make sure that blanket is covering the waist down,” jae instructs, opening the camera app on his phone. wonpil realizes his intentions and tries to argue against it.

jae smirks. “but you look so pretty like this.”

it is not the only picture they take on their weeklong honeymoon, but it is the one that means the most.

(“how does it feel to have lost your virginity?” wonpil asks him the next day as they’re walking along the water line in swim trunks and bare feet.

“eh.” jae shrugs. “at least i lost it--”

“in hawaii,” they say together, and dissolve into laughter.)

**Author's Note:**

> "sort of lawfully wedded husband" i crack myself up
> 
> and that is the end of this series! thank you for reading. comments and kudos make me smile <3
> 
> i was actually in hawaii a month or so ago with the marching band i'm in and we made jokes about everything being "in hawaii" the entire time so obviously i had to end it with that joke
> 
> i promise i'm working on the other fics in the "keep your promises" universe (casual self-promo, you should go check that out if you haven't already), they're just turning out to be longer and more plot-heavy than i expected
> 
> hmu on tumblr @bestfluteninja


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